


is a virtue

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: And All The Queen's Men 'verse [11]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: F/M, First Dates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25524472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: Gizelle wants to set Brian up with one of her friends, a model named Patience Hall, and the guitarist is surprised to find how nervous he is, and how Patience is nothing like he expected.
Relationships: Brian May/Original Female Character(s), Roger Taylor (Queen)/Original Character(s)
Series: And All The Queen's Men 'verse [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1205551
Kudos: 2





	is a virtue

**Author's Note:**

> PATIENCE PATIENCE PATIENCE MY DEAR LOVE, anyways i adore patience and i need to write more about her. this is part 1, but there is a part 2 coming.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” it’s a Wednesday afternoon, overcast, though that in itself wasn’t really a sign of anything, especially not in the middle of Winter, but still Brian feels a wave of apprehension settle over him when he realises Gizelle is talking to him. The band is waiting for Freddie to show up since he’s late, _again_ , and while Roger’s working on a new drum solo, and John and Veronica perusing a furniture catalogue together, but Brian’s been writing lyrics, perched on his amp.

Gizelle, coffee in one hand, designer handbag in the other, cocks her hip as she waits for Brian to look at her, and comprehend what she’s said, and she watches with amusement as a range of emotions flick across his face.

“You’re not trying to set me up with one of your sisters, are you?” Brian asks, and Gizelle has to bite back a smile as she plays innocent.

“You and Gabrielle get on well, don’t you?” Behind her, John snorts a laugh where he’s clearly eavesdropping, but Brian sighs as though terribly put upon.

“You know that’s not the one I meant.”

“As hilarious as I find the concept of you and ‘Vanna together, unfortunately she’s taken up with some American hair-metal boy, so _no,_ I’m not trying to set you up with one of my sisters.” There’s the faintest twitch of her lips that indicates she’s trying not to smile at the thought, but for Gizelle knowing the sound guys are in the very next room, it’s her equivalent of a full-bellied laugh. 

“So go on then, tell me then, who’s the unlucky lady?” Brian asks with only the barest hint of amused self-deprecation. Gizelle gives him a flat stare, the way her perfect eyebrows lower being the only real change in her facial expression, but it’s enough to let him know that she’s disappointed in his negative self-talk. 

“She’s a friend of mine,” Gizelle explains, “we met through work.”

“She in a band?” Brain asks, interest piqued, finally putting down his notebook and pushing off from the amp to stand. Gizelle shook her head.

“My _other_ work, Miami and I’s mutual friend is representing her in a contract dispute, and he brought me in to raise her profile and make sure she’d still get work after the dust settles,” Gizelle explained, which only seemed to confuse the guitarist, “even if she wins and gets out of her contract, there’s no guarantee she won’t be blackballed from potential jobs in the future so -”

“So you throw your support behind her and everyone and their dog wants to hire her,” Brian nodded, finally understanding, and Gizelle cracks a smile, “is that why you want me to meet her? Do you want us to hire her?” And there’s confusion in his voice, but it’s Gizelle’s turn to be confused.

“She’s a model; I want you to meet her because I think you’ll like her,” she tells him bluntly, and Brian’s expression lights up as he goes pink around the ears, pleased. 

“Are you sure?” He’s trying to play it cool, “not that I don’t trust your judgement, but you did marry _Roger_.” And they both ignore Roger’s indignant scoff, but Gizelle’s smiling at that, her fond gaze flicking to him over Brian’s shoulder before she looks back to see Brian’s amused expression.

“I promise you’ll like her,” Gizelle assured gently, before offering him her coffee cup to hold, fishing around in her bag for a moment. Pulling out a business card, she hands it over with a flourish, “she knows I’m giving you her number; she’s expecting your call.”  
“Oh is she now?” Brian raises his eyebrows, smiling as he exchanges the coffee for the card, taking the time to read it.

 _Patience Hall_ in a neat, nondescript typeface, white text against the dark skinned model whose headshot made up the background. On the back, there’s a business and fax number, but beneath those, neatly handwritten, sits a personal telephone number.

“This is her?” Brian’s voice is a little soft, a little awed as he takes in card as a whole; it feels so professional. Looking at the model, at her serious expression and gorgeous dark eyes printed in black and white, he quietly gets a little giddy at the idea of taking her out. When he looks up, meeting Gizelle’s gaze, he thinks she can tell.

“That’s her,” Gizelle nods once, and Brian lets himself smile a little wider. 

Brian calls Patience that night, after Freddie finally shows up to rehearsals and the band is polishing the last few songs on their new album before they shut themselves into the studio for a few weeks to record it. 

“ _Good evening, this is Patience,_ ” the voice on the other end of the line answers after only two rings, soft and lilting despite the crackle of the phone line. Brian hesitates. “ _Hello_?”

“Hello,” he finally finds his voice, “hi, this is Brian May, Gizelle Taylor gave me your number,” _as if it could have been any other Gizelle_ , he’s already mentally berating himself, but he hears her laugh on the other end of the line, kind and relieved.

“ _Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you! She told me you’d be calling, but I never expected it to be this soon,”_ she muses, and Brian grins.

“I can call back in a few days,” he offered, his smile clear in his words, “if this is too fast -” but she cuts him off quickly.

“ _No, no!_ ” She’s quick to say, “ _I’m not complaining at all, it’s lovely to hear from you!_ ”

Patience sounds like she’s smiling, like she’s genuine in her words, and Brian can feel himself flushing. She doesn’t ask him about _Queen_ , and he doesn’t ask about her modeling, instead, they stumble through some small talk before he’s asking her out to dinner.

“Or lunch,’ he follows it up with quickly, “if you’d prefer -”

“ _Dinner sounds wonderful_ ,” she assures, and there’s a moment of silence that hangs in the air between them before he asks, tentatively.

“How’s Friday?”

“ _Friday,_ ” she pauses for a beat, and there’s the rustling of paper, perhaps a calendar, “ _Friday’s perfect; does seven work_?”

“Seven sounds great,” he agrees, and she gives him the address of the hotel she’s staying at. The moment after he hangs up, he’s excited, and the moment after that, he’s nervous. He hasn’t really dated anyone since he and Chrissie had split up over a year ago. He’d thrown himself into his music and parenting his children, and making sure the divorce was amicable for the childrens’ sake. He wasn’t a nun by any means, he’d let Freddie take him to nightclubs a few more times than he’d like to admit to, had relieved his _Fat Bottomed Girls_ days during the last tour once or twice, but dating had never been his intention. 

So why - _why_ \- had he agreed to this?

Because he trusted Gizelle.

The next day, Thursday, he’s a ball of nerves when he walks into rehearsals, and Roger’s wearing a grin that’s all teeth.

“Don’t -” He heads Roger off before the blonde can even open his mouth. Roger’s smile widens. That’s the problem with having known each other for over fifteen years at this point, is that Roger can tell exactly what he’s feeling with just one glance; _Roger_ of all people, should not be granted that privilege, Brain finds himself ruminating.

“You alright, dear?” Freddie asks, interest piqued, early for once, and Brian huffs a sigh.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine -”

“He’s got a date with ‘Zelle’s friend,” Roger crows, and Brian shoots him a filthy look.

“Good on you,” Freddie nods emphatically, walking over and clapping Brian on the shoulder, “she’s got wonderful taste in friends,” and both Roger and John behind him hum in agreement. Brain actually rolls his eyes at them.

“I’m sure she’s lovely, but that’s the problem, I’m… I’m just -” and he gestures to himself awkwardly, making an unflattering face.

“You’re a strapping young lad,” Freddie insists, and while Brian appreciates it, it’s not _exactly_ what he meant.

“She’s going to love you,” the sincerity in Roger’s voice comes as a surprise, and when Brian turns to where he’s sitting on the drum risers, he sees Roger with one foot tucked up on his stool, expression warm and kind, “‘Zelle speaks very highly of Patience, and from what she’s said, you’re going to love her, and as long as you’re, you know, yourself or whatever, I’m sure she’ll love you too.” And he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and breaking the moment of honesty, but Brian was thankful for the pep talk. After a beat, letting the moment settle, Brain sighed deeply.

“Thanks, man,” he said with a half-smile, and Roger grinned back in acknowledgement, “but I don’t even know where to take her to dinner; I haven’t been on a real bloody date since -” and Chrissie’s name catches on his tongue but they all know, and don’t comment about it.

“I think ‘Zelle said she’s vegetarian,” Roger muses, and after a beat, he suggests a restaurant Brian’s only heard of by reputation, right in the middle of the city, telling him that even Gizelle recommended it. That night, he calls, books a private room at the fancy little restaurant, and heaves a nervous sigh the moment he hangs up.

The band has Friday off, so instead he lays about in bed until it’s almost eleven, spends a good few hours pottering around, occasionally gardening, reading a few articles his assistant had sent over a few days ago, and spends the better part of half an hour trying to pick an outfit. 

_Why_ had he chosen _dinner_ ? There was no right answer to dressing for dinner! Lunch could be nice slacks and a button down, but _dinner_ meant possibly a jacket, but what if he’s too overdressed? What if he doesn’t wear a jacket but he needs one to get into the restaurant, then he’ll look like a fool, what if --

When he picks Patience up, he’s wearing a well fitted suit that he’d had tailored for an event not too long ago. It’s dark blue and crisp, but he’s forgone a tie, leaving the top few buttons undone, he _is_ a rock and roller, after all. He parks, steps into the hotel lobby, and tells the man at the front desk that he’s here for Patience, and they ring her, quietly letting her know that - _and he gets a wide-eyed look from the bellhop, whose voice goes a little uncertain_ \- Brian May is waiting for her. 

Patience steps out of the elevator in a midnight blue dress, barely a few shades darker than Brian’s suit, and he’s pretty sure it’s fate. The moment she sees him, she’s smiling, and it’s blinding, all teeth and shining eyes and genuine excitement at seeing him, and Brian’s smiling too as she makes her way towards him, but all thoughts have left his head. She’s _stunning_ in person; willowy and statuesque, the heels on her shoes make her the same height as him, which Brian finds he rather likes as she greets him with a hug and a kiss on either cheek. 

“I wasn’t going for speechless,” she says with a soft laugh, and something connects in his brain very suddenly - _she’s American_ , “but I think it’s a rather large compliment coming from you,” and finally Brian’s brain connects with his mouth.

“You look stunning,” and Patience’s answering smile was surprisingly abashed. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she tugged the lapel of his jacket for emphasis, a playful smile on her lips, and gestured for him to lead the way out. As he turns, Patience tucks her arm into his, and leans in for a moment, “we match.” And she sounds _so pleased_.

“Must be destiny,” Brian hears himself say back, and Patience hums thoughtfully.

“Must be,” she agrees with a smile. 

Patience wears her emotions on her sleeve, Brian’s quick to pick up on; she’s direct but never unfairly blunt, and smiles like she’s never known hardship. She’s like _sunshine_ , an interesting counterpoint to Gizelle, who seemed to take months to warm up to the band enough to even smile at them. When Brian asks about her connection to Gizelle, Patience’s smile turns fond.

“I’m very grateful to call her my friend,” she muses, “she’s a lot kinder in person than I was expecting.” And Brian nods with the faintest smile, knowing exactly what she means, but already seeing how this bright and joyful woman was able to so easily win Gizelle over.

They have dinner in the private room of the restaurant, both ordering the garlic and herb grilled eggplant, and when Brian tells a joke, Patience laughs so hard she snorts. It’s _adorable_.

As the dinner’s winding down, and Brian’s wracking his brains for ways to keep this night going, Patience turns a little nervous herself, fiddling with her napkin, avoiding his gaze.

“I fear I’ve double-booked myself tonight,” she admits, and Brian’s heart sinks at her words, “I have a friend at the Museum of Natural History, and he’d pulled some strings for me to let me in tonight after they’d closed,” she explains, and Brian’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “I mean,” Patience deliberates, looking up at him through her lashes, “unless you’d like to accompany me?” And she sounds hopeful. He’s pretty sure he’s never met anyone so earnest, it’s kind of refreshing. 

“I’d- I’d love to,” Brian’s so quick to agree it’s like the words fall from him before is brain even registers what he’s saying; he’d been _so worried_ that she’d just want to leave after dinner, just call it a night, despite how much she’d seemed to be enjoying herself, but here she was, lighting up, explaining how the museum wasn’t far away, easily within walking distance and -

 _Oh_ , he finds himself thinking with a gentle smile, _she might be perfect_.

When they exit the restaurant, however, there’s a blinding flash of light, and then their names being called, someone desperate for their attention. Patience freezes, smile turning still as she grabs Brian’s hand and power walks to the theatre. He realises too late that it’s the paparazzi, and when he turns to tell them to leave them alone, Patience, voice low and insistent, tells him to just leave it.

They make it to the museum in a matter of minutes, hand in hand, and the man who greets them at the gates smiles at them both with a warmth in his eyes, and offers them both a solid handshake.

“So good to see you again, Hall,” he tells Patience, and quickly introduces himself to Brian as Lawrence, and turns on his heel and leads them through the gates, into the museum.

“How do you know each other?” Brian asks, trying to make casual conversation, still holding Patience’s hand.

“He was my tutor in college,” Patience explains easily, and the man nodded in agreement, before adding.

“She’s terribly bright,” Lawrence adds, “in her final year, she helped me with my thesis for my Masters, which, speaking of -” he looks over his shoulder with an inquisitive look, and Patience rolls her eyes.

“I’m getting there, you know I’ve been going through some shit, my Masters is the least of my worries,” she waived him off, and Lawrence made a disapproving tut, but didn’t press her on it.

“Terribly bright,” Lawrence reiterates, “not much of an entomologist, but a fantastic help nonetheless.” At this, Brian turns his amused expression upon Patience, eyebrows raised in question.

“I studied biology,” she explains, though her voice is quiet, as if she’s a little embarrassed by that fact, “I mean, I am studying- am _still_ studying- I’m a biologist?” Though it sounds like a question. 

“ _Fascinating_ ,” and he means it with his whole heart when he says it, though she seems to be surprised at his enthusiasm, “I never would have picked that.”

“Most people don’t,” Patience muses with a surprisingly rueful tone, looking around at the museum ground as they approached the front doors. Lawrence graciously let them inside, acting as though he wasn’t listening to their every word.

“I haven’t worked much on my thesis lately,” Brian mentions casually, “have been rather busy over the last few years, it can be so hard to find the time.” 

“Masters?” Patience asks, in the exact same carefully casual tone that Brian was using.

“Doctorate,” Brian tells her with an air of humble pride, “astrophysics.” There’s a moment of silence, and when he looks at her, she’s regarding him with a newfound respect.

“Never would have picked that,” she grins a little, parroting his own words back at him. Brian shrugs easily, and gives her hand a squeeze.

“Most people don’t.”


End file.
